


to this i pray

by HiddenEye



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, M/M, Pining, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 06:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11617935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenEye/pseuds/HiddenEye
Summary: Shiro was there with his scratched armour and teared suit, he wastherein flesh and blood and Keith wasn't letting him disappear ever again.





	to this i pray

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something for our less than 10 days till s3 8)
> 
> Enjoy!

They found him.

_They found him._

The thought sprang against the walls of his mind as Keith zeroed on the figure eliminating every droid that dared be three feet within his space, snarling with pulled back lips while his purple hand lit up with his rageful strikes. A storm brewed inside his eyes, forks of lightning striking against the canvas of heavy lies; _no more_ , howled the grace of his movements, mimicking the Black Swan’s forbidden dance. _No more._

With an arch of his fist, Shiro roared through his anguish.

As Keith ducked and slashed through a wall of upcoming sentries - desperate, _desperate_ need to not let his sight be obscured, to _see_ the Black Paladin with his own two eyes - he ran towards where Shiro was, pushing and avoiding every obstacle that was thrown towards his way with hard shoves and answering all attacks with his own. Shiro was there with his scratched armour and teared suit, he was _there_ in flesh and blood and Keith wasn't letting him disappear ever again.

He swore it on his own life, on all the promises that had never been uttered into the same air they breathed.

“Shiro,” Keith whispered hoarsely, bayard tight in his curled fist until his fingers began to cramp. It was easy to dismiss the small things, not when the sight of his best friend made the bang of his heart lodged in his throat. “Shiro.”

As if having to hear him, Shiro swung his head towards where Keith had to suddenly block a blaster’s hit. He swung his bayard through the droid’s neck, a hiss of frustration escaping his lips as the head dropped heavily to the ground, but he didn't wait to see the impact before he jumped over other fallen bodies to run towards where Shiro stood.

Those greys trained on him, as frozen as time and dust that wafted in the air between them while Shiro stared at the Red Paladin with every suck of his breath; his chest heaved, drenched white forelock stuck to his forehead while the wild look in his eyes didn't dissipate as Keith got nearer.

So did the glow of his arm when Keith skidded into a stop, almost toppling over in the process as he forced himself to let space exist between them.

He had to, he had to when Shiro was clearly not yet awake from his haze, not when he was looking at Keith with a frown on his brows and a turn of his lips.

Keith couldn't help but stare back, couldn't help but feel the dread of a feeling searing down his chest while it burned through his insides like hell itself.

“Shiro?” He called out again, unsure this time while he pulled back the fear that threatened to crawl out from the pit of his stomach. His eyes flickered towards his still glowing arm before they went back up to his face, and Shiro did nothing to indicate he heard while the tense lines on his face remained as they were.

Keith didn't like the look, it was nothing he expected as he locked his jaw incredulously at the notion of what his brain was quick to supply, of what he had wanted their reunion to be.

It was never this. God, it was never this.

 _This_ being the way Shiro made no move to say a word of what he felt, of what he would have done under normal circumstances.

Keith almost laughed at that.

A second passed, two - contrary to the hours Keith felt the way it crawled under his skin while the fight around them had ceased from their hard work. Their teammates were by their posts just as they planned earlier, like they were supposed to, and so they weren't able to see the way Keith pressed his clenched hand to his thigh to stop its quivering.

He didn't like the look, because it was empty and devoid of what they usually kept for each other whenever they faced the horrors fate loved to toy them with.

“Shiro,” Keith tried again, insistence broken by a hush of ragged breath, unable to move while he didn't dare startle the man before him. “Shiro, please.”

There were no changes in Shiro’s expression so much there were any replies, a Greek god carved out of marble and left under the transparent ceiling for the world to see, a statue for everyone to admire for its smooth stretch of clothing and the detailed ceases of its face.

Keith was about to reach for him, to say it was him, it was _Keith,_  before the Galra arm snuffed out like a candle, leaving the limb hanging helplessly by his side while Shiro tried to regain his conscious by blinking slowly, as if he had woken up from a deep dream. And finally, _finally,_ as if he was shedding the last screen of canvas away, Shiro land his gaze onto Keith.

Only to have fear filling in what space there was left.

Keith watched as Shiro took a step back, breaths hitching in as he darted his look at everywhere but on the man before him.

“I'm sorry,” he immediately croaked out, sparing him a pleading glance. When Keith tried to reach out again, Shiro took another step back, almost as if he was _afraid_ of touching him now, of contact from Keith. And said man felt his life yanked from underneath his own two feet when Shiro shook his head. “I'm sorry, I can't - “

He clamped his mouth shut, looking away. But, Keith wasn't having none of that. “Shiro,” he said again with a fall of his hand, where it slapped against his leg as he felt the first clutches of panic starting to sink in. This wasn't right. “What is - You -”

“The others are here,” Shiro snatched away the last of his words that caused Keith to shut his mouth with an audible click. The older paladin gave him one last mournful look before he turned his back. “We need to get going.”

Keith never noticed the way the castle landed behind him with the ferocity of its winds whistling past his ear, never noticed how the door to the insides of the castle opened as he only followed Shiro - always, _always_ \- with his eyes and soul. Shiro walked passed him with hardly a brush of their shoulders, because Keith was almost refusing to understand what was happening.

But, it rolled on as surely as it would - where the second time since Shiro disappeared, Keith felt his nightmare come true.

A cloud of apprehension hung in the castle’s air while life went on as normal as it would have hoped. Heartfelt hugs and genuine tears were shared as the reunion was what they had been counting on for the whole time Shiro had been missing, and they were accepted with his fond chuckles as he pulled most of them into his embrace.

When Shiro lifted his head to his way, Keith merely shifted his gaze onto the mice perched on Allura’s shoulders with his jaw locked tight.

She must have felt the heat of his pain rolling out in waves and cocked her eyebrow up in inquiry. The empty look was the only thing he was able to offer while a black hole itself gnawed through his chest, a numb feeling taking hold of his body gleefully.

Instead, he gave the slightest shake of his head.

The team was quick to get together again after having their leader back in their helm of control, and for the first time since Shiro disappeared, a burden seemed to lift above their shoulders while they laughed and joked a little easier than they used to. It was fine, Keith thought, they deserved a little break after months of worry.

The only problem was that he wasn't able to join them.

Not yet, not after the profanity Shiro did.

Keith was glad the rest of his teammates hadn't notice this storm that brewed between them.

He mastered the art of avoidance even before Garrison, and it was easy to mutter an excuse to the nearest person beside him before he left the room. Slipping past the man was only an old habit that had been awakened, his grief and fury bubbling underneath the surface of his calm demeanour.

Shiro, as it would seem, didn't try to protest at the rift Keith made. But, when Shiro tried to talk to him for the sake of an opinion, Keith only gave him the silence he wanted.

It was childish, but he was angry and hurt, hurt that months of tears and stress were only for nothing when Shiro couldn't even look at Keith without having the same heavy regret in his gaze.

Keith should have known, he supposed, it was only a matter of time before he was casted away like the freak he was.

A guttural scream ripped from his throat when he forcefully stabbed the tip of his sword into the middle of the gladiator, feeling how the bayard slid into the droid’s left chest and burst out through its back. The weight of the machine pulled onto Keith as he forced himself to see the light disappear from its eyes, its own sword falling away from his throat, before Keith let it drop near his feet with a loud crash with his bayard still buried in it.

Training wasn't helping as it couldn't chase away what he was suffering with. He was adamant on making sure it did until they would be attacked with Galra soldiers, where each individual would have their own fighting style that Keith couldn't wait to get his hands on.

In fact, he was looking forward to using live bodies as his stress ball.

He couldn't be bothered to look up at the sound of the doors sliding open as he wrapped his fingers around the hilt, one hand wiping the sweat away from his forehead.

“This has to stop.”

Keith yanked his sword out of the dead robot with a white burst of anger, swivelling to where Shiro stood near the closed door with a frown on his face, clearly displeased at how Keith was destroying the gladiators every day.

Oh, there was guilt as well. One that scratched and pulled onto the frame of his body until his shoulders were taut with shame, the bitter sting of his words still visible in his eyes. It was there and as sure as the time when their younger and naive selves had dreamt of a new start after Kerberos.

_All for nothing._

“What’s your better alternative?” Keith questioned coldly. “Drop everything and forget?”

It was a direct hit, he made sure of it. But to his frustration, Shiro didn't take the bait and merely met his hard look evenly. “The gladiator didn't do anything wrong. If you're thinking of genuinely hurting someone, I'm here.”

Keith stared at him, before a short burst of disbelieving laughter escaped. “Funny,” he croaked out, pushing his bangs away from his forehead. “Could've sworn that was beginning to sound like an apology.”

Passiveness crumbled into a wince. “You know why I'm doing this. I'm trying to protect - ”

“Don't start,” Keith snapped. “You can't just say ‘it's over’ and pretend it's fine. You can’t just turn your back after _everything_ we've done - ”

“This isn't even about the team,” Shiro warned him, making his way nearer towards him. “Don't try to pull them into this too.”

“I'm not even talking about the team!” The shout bounced off the walls of the empty room, Shiro’s words a grating disbelief against his flesh. Keith swung his bayard forward to point the tip of the weapon to his way, his teeth clenched against one another while his chest coiled and twisted under the tension they made. “I made sure we would look for you, I was the one who insisted it when they were already bouncing off ideas to _replace_ you,” he spat. “And when you're _finally_ back to me - “

He stopped himself, swallowing the ball down his throat while Shiro stood in front of him until the tip of his weapon almost touched his chest. The worst part was how Shiro didn’t seem to be bothered by it.

 _If_ Keith didn't have control, _if_ he hadn't loved this man who had the tendency to risk the things that could severely hurt them, Keith would have even considered the thought of running the blade through the body.

But no, not when Shiro was looking at Keith like _that,_ not when the weapon in his hand was shaking from his own unstable self.

“I can't have you near me,” Shiro began quietly, his clenched fists hanging uselessly by his sides. “Every time we're so close to get what we want, the universe just flings us away from each other. With that, it risks you getting hurt too. And I can't,” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I can't let that happened to you.”

Keith couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He let his weapon dropped to his side, unable to feel anything more than the numb haze that consumed his body. “So, you're giving up.”

“I'm protecting you - “

“I heard that the first time. But, what I still don't understand is why you're giving this up so easily when we had always been fighting things together?”

There was no answer then, making desperation and the franticness of wanting to hold on caused Keith to reach forward and roughly grabbed the other man’s shoulder, bring his face close until they were particularly nose to nose.

The expression on Shiro's face didn't even shift the slightest bit when Keith tightened his grip.

“You've ruined me,” Keith whispered harshly, almost choking on his own words. “You've ruined me and fucked me over. But, you wanna know what the worst part is? You damn well know you're doing and couldn’t even be bothered enough to stop it.”

Shiro gave him a wistful smile. “Or is it because you're the one who's thinking too hard into this?”

 

* * *

 

Lance shot Kolivan a glare. “Why is he shaking like this?”

The leader of the Blade merely watched the way he carefully pulled his shivering friend to his side, where the Red Paladin couldn’t even stand on his own two feet as Keith leaned heavily against Lance, an arm slung over his shoulder. Lance let his eyes wander over the cuts and bruises that littered against the Balde of Marmora suit Keith wore, showing them red thin lines of blood as a gift or two from the gladiators he had relentlessly fought.

“He saw what he wanted to see,” Kolivan replied, standing by the side with his arms folded behind him. “And the suit compelled.”

Lance shoved the bangs away from Keith’s face, and sucked in a sharp breath at how a yellowish green bruise was beginning to bloom on the apple of his cheek, nearly shutting his right eye closed.

“What did he see that made him like this?” Lance demanded, but kept his fingers gentle as he swept the hair away from Keith’s face, where the man was squinting at them through his haze while his breaths came out in ragged puffs.

When Kolivan didn't answer at once, Lance looked up with a clench of his jaw, ready to repeat his question. “It's not my place to tell,” Kolivan finally rumbled out. “If you seek answers of his deepest hopes and fears, then you’ll have to ask from him.”

“You _saw_ what happened,” Lance insisted, hefting Keith nearer so that he wasn't able to fall. “Why can’t you just tell me what happened to him so that I can fix this?”

Kolivan stared him down. “I have no power over it.”

“Like you didn't have the power to stop him from killing himself, apparently.” Lance grounded out as he slowly began guiding Keith out of the training deck, making sure to take small steps in order to pace themselves. “I'm getting him out of here.”

Looking down, Lance frowned at the way Keith had his head ducked in exhaustion, and worry reached out for his friend. “You're okay there?”

There was a soft groan, and Keith tried to look at him from the corner of his eye.

“We'll get you in the pod, alright?” Lance consoled, patting his back lightly. “We'll get you patched up.”

“He chose the biggest droid we have in this training sequence,” Kolivan began just as they were about to step out of the room. Lance glanced over his shoulder to see the grim expression on the Galra’s face. “And he insisted I didn't interfere.”

“Of course he would,” Lance muttered, and Keith shot him a withering glare. Louder, he asked, “Did he say why?”

It was obvious that Keith didn't want Lance to know by the way he started to grunt, shifting in his hold before wheezing out, “None of your business.”

“If you're bleeding all over the floor, I'll make it my damn business.” Lance snapped. “We're your friends, hell, I hope you think of _me_ as your friend but if you're going to keep secrets from us for the next of your life, then we're going to have a problem.”

Defeated, Keith looked away with a lock of his jaw.

“Have faith in him.”

When Lance looked towards Kolivan, he was holding onto Keith’s stubborn gaze. Lance had a feeling they weren't talking about him, if the pain and grief that hung low in Keith’s eyes said any indication about it. Kolivan merely met his look passively. “And have faith to what might come.”

When both paladins let the door shut closed behind them, Lance could only offer his touch when a sob shook Keith's frame.


End file.
